Scattered Dreams
by Tuna Salad Sonnet
Summary: -20 FACTS- Currently playing: Luxord&Naminé. You let go of the things you love the most. But you still hope they'll come back.
1. Organization XIII

_This_ collection is for another LiveJournal comm: 20_dreams. The challenge is to take a character, pairing, or group and write 20 'facts' about them. They can be canon, fanon, or your own speculation. The ratings here will vary, but are mostly in the T-Soft R area.

I do not own any of the franchises or any related characters mentioned here. This was written out of enjoyment of the series, and no profit is being made.

**Claim:** Organization XII, feat Naminé  
**Rating:** PG-13, for language  
**Notes:** My first attempt. I'm not sure if I messed it up, seeing as a lot of these morphed into vignettes instead of facts. Takes place at various points in the Organization's history.

19 is more or less a test of a multi-chaptered fic thing that's been eating my brain. That Jubjub bird in 6 will also be returning soon, but actually _in_ Wonderland.

And yeah, that one at the end? I totally went there.

* * *

**Fun with XIV Powers**

01

There is something of a running joke between Luxord and Xigbar, as to who will be the first to rip a hole in the space-time continuum. When one feels the odd tug of the fabric of the universe being pulled on, he becomes determined to hunt the other down.

Xigbar turns to grin over his shoulder as Luxord runs into the room, having just missed Roxas and Axel go through one of Xigbar's Corridors. (The ones he summons can cross limitless miles.) "Sorry, Brit," he says. "Haven't done it yet."

The younger man grins back. "Splendid. You _do_ know I'll be the first one to succeed...?"

"As if!"

02

The only time Xaldin is ever apologetic about anything (whether it is sarcastic or not is another matter entirely) is when winter rolls around and the World that Never Was gets deathly cold. (They have no sun, after all.)

You see, he catches colds easily. And with sneezes like his, well...

Make sure you stay at least a hallway's length from him. If not for the wind-speed, than for the _sound_. Every new recruit thinks there is a series of small explosions navigating the halls during their first winter.

03

After the scientist had made a particularly scathing remark about his poor work-ethic (or whatever it was he had said), Marluxia takes the time and consideration to send Vexen a potted plant.

The next morning, there is a monstrous piranha plant blocking the door to the lab. He manages to evade four snaps of its jaws before XI and XII burst out laughing from their lookout point.

04

A week or so later, Marluxia's scythe goes missing. He walks into the courtyard, still searching. Lexaeus and Zexion are watching as Vexen carves a huge block of ice with a certain green-and-pink weapon. The blade is so dull and scratched up it would take weeks to repair.

"Ah, Marluxia!" the Academic grins down at him from a stepladder, eyes invisible behind a pair of heavy goggles (for the glare; ice reflects moonlight rather well). "The three of us are in need of a fourth opinion for the subject matter of my sculpture. Hobby of mine, you know."

It is safe to say the courtyard wasn't the same for months.

05

Demyx is quite chivalrous, once you get to know him. He doesn't remember what his Somebody did, but many of them suspect he could've been a knight, or at least a soldier. Whatever he did, they're almost sure it involved protecting women or young girls.

Because when Xemnas first mentions kidnapping the Princesses of Heart out of Maleficent's clutches (experimentation purposes, you see), Demyx is so upset he manages to surprise them all by doing two very intriguing things.

One: despite the large height distance between the two thrones, not to mention all the unwritten statuses, the Nocturne works up the nerve to _shout_ at the Superior.

Two: probably unconsciously driven by his raised voice, the water circulating through the walls in the giant castle speeds up to the point that they all hear metallic crashes and ripping sounds before Demyx teleports out of Where Nothing Gathers.

He managed to single-handedly destroy all the pipes without raising a finger.

Xemnas dropped the plan only _after_ Number IX somehow managed to pull off the stunt for three straight weeks. (You can imagine the complaints.)

06

Zexion can, literally, play with people's minds. If the person is restrained well enough, all it takes is one open page of the lexicon, and it's _over._

Until Vexen introduces him to the Jubjub bird, a subject from Wonderland. It ("She", Vexen corrects,) is apparently sentient and capable of advanced speech, but, like all Wonderlandian things, is odd.

Because when Zexion opens the book to enter its mind, his fingers freeze, and he can't for the life of him understand why he _can't close the book_. By the time he leaves the bird's mind, he is seeing flashes of colour from cameras bulbs that aren't there, and hearing faint songs on radios not in the room. Lexaeus and Vexen speak in rather strange, garbled voices, and the plants in Marluxia's garden look like they hold comet tails and fairy lights in their petals.

The worst part is witnessing the most absolutely elaborate musical numbers that his comrades are unable to see, despite the fact that they're the ones singing and dancing.

07

There was one late night in the kitchen. They should all be sleeping but none of them are tired and the impossible has happened: somehow the floodgates of conversation have opened. The laughs quieted as the Nymph continued.

"I'm telling you, it was a _nightmare_," Larxene was saying. "There were flowers fucking everywhere..."

"And you were..." A smile threatened to twitch Lexaeus's face, "...singing?"

The other four men burst out laughing again. They must've been drinking too much because Larxene actually grinned abashedly. "Yeah," she confirmed.

"I wonder where it was," Demyx said, mostly to himself.

"Maybe it was at Disney World," Xigbar spoke up.

The laughs quieted slowly. Xaldin was frowning.

"...Where?" Luxord asked, still smiling.

"You know, Disney World?" Xigbar repeated.

"You mean Disney Castle," Larxene corrected.

"No, I mean..." The Freeshooter drifted off.

"_Xigbar,_" Xaldin nudged him, as though that would bring sense back into his head.

He continued. "No, you guys _have_ to know." When met with blank stares, he said, "You know? The cobblestone streets? With all the kids? And they're all wearing Mickey Mouse ears?"

"They're _wearing_ his ears?" Demyx repeated in horror.

"As in, _King Mickey's_ ears?" Lexaeus repeated blankly.

"No, I-" The man cupped his head in one hand. "I'm confused."

"You had another one of _those_ dreams, didn't you?" Xaldin asked.

You must understand; to Xigbar, distance is nothing. It seems, in his sleep, he can glimpse things very far away.

Very very _very_ far away.

08

He sneaks into her room through the window looking down onto the courtyard (it's rather easy, he can run up the walls of Memory's Skyscraper in a pinch if he'd like) so she knows he's there. The last time, he teleported in, and almost got hit in the face with her sketchbook. That spiral binding smarts.

They sit at the foot of her bed and talk about things quietly, her knees to her chest and his legs folded underneath him. They quiet and stare across the room in silence at the opposite wall, where a night-light glows orange. It is the only light in the room, other than the thin line coming in from beneath the door.

"Do you want to draw? I'll watch," he offered.

"How?" she asked.

The dim glow of the night-light reveals little of his face as he turns to her, but she can make out a smile. He cups his hands together, as though waiting for a liquid to be poured into them.

Instead, light seeps through his black gloves, gathering in his palms like water. It balls into a cluster of fragile bubbles, all weak pigments and warmth. He can see her looking at his handful of light-marbles, completely astonished. He smiles a little wider, then blows on his brand-new night- lights. They take the air like seeds on a dandelion puff.

They float around her room as though they were multi-coloured fireflies.

"I didn't know you could do that," she whispers.

"Yeah, well..." he looks down at his hands, faintly green in the glow of a passing marble.

He considers telling her what Vexen had told him this morning, but Axel said to keep the showing off to once per visit.

Apparently, no one has ever been able to manipulate light as easily and as skillfully as he has, even though he was far off from creating a fireworks display.

He looks at her, and is slightly panicked to see her looking at him so thoughtfully. Naminé was cleverer than she appeared, he remembered, and only the Gods know how many reasons he and Axel had given her for revenge. (She was fun to play jokes on; they always flustered her.)

Instead she leans over and pecks him on the cheek. She turns away and retrieves her sketchbook from under the bed, as though nothing happened.

"Can you pass me my pencils?" she asks, and he swears he sees colour in her cheeks (but maybe it was just one of the passing red lights).

"R-right."

09

If you need one good reason not to piss off Larxene, it is this: the equipment needed to keep the Castle That Never Was floating is expensive, delicate, and highly prone to overloading.

10

Roxas swore on his life (or whatever) that he would never skateboard down the banister again. At the very least, not when Xemnas was around.

Because this was the worst possible punishment imaginable.

Axel had practically begged the Superior not to go through with it.

"Do you take sugar in your tea, Roxas?" Saïx asked, smiling cordially.

The blonde continued to gape, as he had been doing since he spotted the small table, set for two on VII's large balcony.

The man furrowed his eyebrows but continued to smile, as though the boy was telling some vaguely amusing joke. "Really, Thirteen, if you keep looking at me like that your face will freeze. Can't two grown men share a polite cup of tea?"

Normally, Roxas might've been honoured to be called a 'grown man' by one of the older members. But he expected that if he had ever managed to do anything to deserve that, it would've come from Xigbar.

This was just _weird._

Seeing that any conversation attempts were pointless, the Diviner turns to Kingdom Hearts, burning in the sky, rusting and ruddy.

"A little scary, isn't it?" he says, musing aloud. "It feels like the moon is dying."

He shakes his head slightly. "Strange..." he lifts his tea cup off it's saucer and up to his smiling lips before sipping.

Roxas waits for him to finish, but nothing happens.

It's only on nights like this that Saïx is actually _sane,_ and drifts off into thought, not some churning sea of calm and rage.

He makes a mental note to behave himself whenever another lunar eclipse comes along.

11

Pair up Demyx and _Larxene_ if you have to, but whatever you do, don't pair up IX and X in the combat arena. Water, when sped up, can cut through steel like a hot knife through butter. (The walls still have some deep gouges from the one time.)

12

Sometimes, when they have nothing better to do, VIII and XIII walk the empty streets of the Dark City and cause a little bit of chaos. Axel causes the occasional Dusk or Creeper to spontaneously combust, and Roxas lets the neon signs glow so brightly that they explode, leaving only splinters of glass and angry embers of colour.

13

Luxord sneaks her out of her room a lot. He says it's unhealthy to be surrounded by nothing but bleached walls and curtains and flowers.

So naturally, he takes her to the place with the darkest, dirtiest colours he can find.

Tortuga.

"Luxord, this place is kind of scary," she says, tugging at the tassels that hang off her belt. She is behind him by several paces, obviously not wanting to head into the bar he's walking towards.

He smiles and drops his tricorne onto her blue-bandannaed head when she catches up. It's far too big and slips over her eyes. "If it's any consolation Naminé, I can't let anything bad happen to you. The Superior - not to mention Marluxia - would have my head."

She nudges the hat back from her eyes so she can frown at him properly.

He rolls his eyes. "Or you could hang on to me," he offers an arm.

She latches onto it as though for dear life as they enter the _Faithful Bride_. It smells of sea salt and fish, not to mention the horrible stench of sweat and alcohol. She tries to avoid the leers of some of the men as they pass and presses herself closer to Luxord's side.

Her guide meanwhile, walks towards one of the back tables as though in a trance. He knows exactly where to sit where they won't be noticed because he's suddenly a different person and there is suddenly a very different little girl on his arm.

"Poppet," he calls her, and the odd nickname gains her attention even over all the distractions. "I think we've just made a rather serendipitous ascertainment."

"Um...what would that be, Luxord?" she asks as they sit.

He smiles at her, almost greedily, as though having just learned the rules of a new game. "You can affect absolutely anyone's memories."

14

Axel, like Vexen, can control his body heat as easily as one might flex a muscle. If he concentrates, he can will the fire he controls to burn just underneath the surface of his skin, tingling and threatening to scald him.

It was quite useful to heat up the empty hollow in his chest. It made pretending easier.

15

He stumbles and pushes through the reeds furiously. Where the hell did he put the damn Gummi Ship?

"We similar!" the ..._thing_ that's been following him says. "We use recipes of yummy-yummies we eat!"

"I do _not_ eat them," Zexion replies coldly, making sure his lexicon doesn't fall as his boots get stuck in the mud again. "And we are _not_ similar."

The odd gelatinous thing (person?) lifts him up out of the mud by his armpits and sets him down next to...her? Him? It. "Okay, okay," it says. "Do you have food? Quina hungry."

He says nothing. He heard that these ...frogs? Frog-people? ..._People_ like to eat frogs (they have to be people, or something similar, because otherwise they would be cannibalists), but never even thought they existed until half an hour ago. He opens his lexicon and summons a flame, courtesy of the Red Nocturne illustration on the page.

"Book, on fire!" the thing shouts. "Look out!"

It opens its huge mouth with its huge tongue and blasts him with a huge gust of wind, something he had once seen an Emerald Blues do.

As he goes flying up and out of the marsh, and lands with a painful _clunk_ on his Gummi ship, he realizes (spitefully) that he and the thing _are_ a little bit similar.

16

"I freakin' love this place," she says.

"Love?" Axel asks, watching her from behind the garbage-can-set-ablaze and raising an eyebrow.

"You know what I mean." She doesn't tear her eyes off the dizzying maze of lights and cars and people below. "If we ever get our hearts back, I'd want to live in a place like this."

"Really?" he asks. "You always struck me as a...quiet, countryside type of girl."

She looks at him over her shoulder and they start laughing simultaneously. "That's got to be one of the stupidest things you've ever said."

"Can't be," he replies. "I've said a lot of stupid stuff."

"It's got to be in the top ten," she says. Suddenly she turns back to the open air, taking in a breath of air.

"Another thing I love about this place," Larxene comments as Axel comes to stand next to her. She summons her kunai and grins wildly, blue-green eyes crackling. "It's always good for target practice."

She aims for the slightly draconic silhouette that had appeared in the sky, far-off and between two skyscrapers. She throws: there is a blinding flash and Axel has to cringe and cover his ears as thunder rips through the air.

Larxene never misses.

She rests her elbow up on his shoulder as they watch the silhouette falter slightly, before picking the dagger from its rocky hide like a toothpick and flying on. "You know, I never would've gotten so good if you hadn't shown me this place?"

He shrugs. "Whatever. I needed someone to bet on against Xigbar."

17

The Neophytes, even Saïx, wonder why Vexen is the only one of the original six who fears Xemnas. (Whatever it was, it happened before any of them arrived.)

The truth is: a) _all_ of them fear him, one way or another. b) Vexen doesn't think he remembers.

But he _does_ remember.

You see, all he remembers is that Xemnas had turned on him, palm up as though silencing him. And then there was just cold, so black and antarctic that even _he_ couldn't bear it.

He's sure that there was more to what Xemnas did to him. He's sure that he had witnessed some other nightmare that his subconscious has since blocked out. But there's nothing else to remember. The only thing the Superior had inflicted on him was a heavily amplified blizzard spell.

The other four don't know the genius of this simple punishment. They only knew what they saw: Vexen falling to the ground, not a man but a twitching silhouette, covered in Darkness as thick and foul as tar. Xaldin had tried to scold the Superior, warning him that he had lost a brilliant and loyal follower to fear, but Xemnas only watched as the heap of shadows and cloth struggled to scream.

All he needed was _cold_ to send him to depths?

How pathetic.

18

"Why, Mr. Saïx," a voice calls from up in the trees. "What a pleasure seeing you here!"

Number VII half-expects another encounter with the Cheshire Cat until he remembers Wonderland is one warp-gummi trip away from this World. He looks up into one of the clearing's trees with raised blue brows. "Marluxia," he states. "I'd prefer you refer to me-"

XI grins sheepishly, fakely, from his lounging pose on the tree-branch. "Ah, of course. My apologies, Seven. Glad to see you're not alone."

He nods at the pack of humongous wolves surrounding the man, almost protectively, in the snow. Saïx just barely touches the hair tips of one's mane. It shifts slightly. "What is your business here, Eleven?"

"None. I had some off-time, thought I'd spend it out in the beauty of nature."

Gold eyes scan the clearing, taking in the frozen tree trunks and blanketed ground. "Doesn't seem to be much flora to commune with."

"That's what you think," Marluxia smirks. "I'm assuming that means that you've been communing with the fauna here?" He waves casually towards the towering empty limbs that claw the air. "I hope you're not thinking of _stealing_ those wolves. The trees tell me their mistress isn't one you should trifle with."

"Of course not. I'm just borrowing them," Saïx replies calmly. "My Other made it his duty to rend all ties he had to nature as quickly as humanly possible." He contemplates the wolves at his feet. "It seems mine is to repair those ties."

"How touching," the other man yawns.

The Diviner turns and coolly regards not the Assassin, but the tree in which he's resting. It's old and crooked; could be easily toppled over if the Queen keeps up this dreadful winter.

"Maugrim," he addresses the wolf he had alerted earlier. "Fetch."

19

He is the only one to have ever lost control of his powers. And it happens after the Organization is long dead (both literally and figuratively), when they are escaping the Underworld.

He had been pushing the envelope the whole day though: going from a heist to break into the prison of the dead to an escape across a giant mythological river wasn't exactly going to rejuvenate him (he wasn't Larxene or Xaldin, they lived and breathed for battle, it seems).

And then having Xemnas, Saïx and Marluxia show up ("All a happy family again," Zexion had muttered) when they were half-way up the Psychopomp Tunnels certainly wasn't beneficial.

Well, somebody had to stop that Arial Blade coming at Vexen's head. So he stopped time.

Or at least tried to.

Because as soon as he tapped into that power, made the gold clock face appear like a rune-circle at his feet, he knew something was wrong. One of the teeth on one of the gears inside him _snapped_ and then everything started spinning and speeding up and he couldn't hold on, and it just - slipped.

And the worst part was, behind all the deafening tick-tocks and the hour-minute-second-hands that ran circles in his eyes, he could _hear_ them. Those three old hags he had been outrunning all this time whispered in his ear.

_"You know we'll catch up to you one day, deary." _

_"You can't cheat us forever."_

_"We're going to have to take at least one of you back." _

_"But we'll let you keep playing,"_ they say in unison, and he shivers. _"You _are _quite fun to toy with."_

It all ends with a crack, and he lifts a hand to his left cheek as he realizes he's been slapped. Then it registers that Larxene is standing next to him, raising an eyebrow. "You alright?" she asks, not _entirely_ concerned.

He nods numbly. "Yeah. Where are our lovely antagonists?"

"Underneath the rubble," Xigbar says, appearing at his side and shoving a Potion into the hands. Luxord sees that the stone tunnel has been torn apart by his brush with the Fates. "Told ya you should've had one of these after the Styx, dude. Speeding up a boat for that long?"

He nods again and pops open the bottle. "I suppose the good news is that if ever _that_ happens again, Larxene can just slap me across the face."

"Surprisingly," she says, as she straightens her glove, "I'm not looking forward to it."

20

"Can you paint with all the colours of the wind where you come from?"

He looks up at her skeptically as they walk beside the river, him across the bank, her across the boulders. "Pardon?"

She smiles to herself. "It's nothing. Just a song my best friend sings."

He nods. "Ah."

They walk on in near silence: his boots still tread under the pebbles and he's almost jealous of her bare-footed leaps that never disrupt the quiet water.

"You wouldn't want to hear how it goes, would you?" she asks.

"If you don't mind singing it..."

"Oh, no, I'm a terrible singer," she stops on her most recent boulder, waving her hands. "But it has rather nice lyrics."

"Please," he said, gesturing to continue.

They start walking again. She hops from one boulder to the next, while his feet crunch beside her on the riverbank, and the woman started repeating the lines of the song.

"Well, um, it goes 'We need to sing with all the voices of the mountains, we need to paint with all the- _what?_"

The man had started to chuckle, very quietly. "It's nothing."

"No, tell me!" she says, as they stop to observe one another. They were an odd pair, that's for sure. The woman had never seen a man with clothing like his, not even from the newcomers. She probably shouldn't be trusting him, but there was something about him - something that reminded her of home.

His lips twitch and, foolishly, her heart flutters. He shakes his head.

She puts her hands on her hips and pouts, thinking. If she had to convince Kocoum to do something, how would she do it? So serious, these men.

"If I show you a secret place afterwards, will you tell me what's so funny?" she offers.

He shakes his head again, slowly this time. It's tempting, apparently. "That would be unnecessary. I'm just not sure if I would call it singing."

It is her turn to look at him skeptically. "You _can't_ sing with all the voices of a mountain."

He 'hmph's at her, then faces forward, closing his eyes. A look of total concentration comes over his face.

Slowly, a rumble starts far below. She feels it first in her heart, causing it to beat slightly faster.

Then the pebbles start to jump all along the riverbank. The air whizzes loudly as they collide into one another.

If she isn't amazed at this, she is when the boulder under her feet lifts into the air _by itself_.

"Whoa-ohhh!" She looses her footing and tries to clutch onto that poise and courage she knows Pocahontas possesses.

She falls right into his arms. The boulder and the pebbles crash back into the mud with her.

She regains her breath as he straightens her up, makes sure she can stand. "By all the spirits of the water, earth, and sky. You...the rocks really _listen_ to you!" she says, looking from him to the boulder and back. "What did you say your name was again?"

He frowns slightly. "I'm afraid I didn't. My name is Lexaeus."

"I'm Nakoma."

She smiles at him, and wonders if she should be running and if it was stupid to have told him her name. She is eased slightly when he finally smiles back at her.

'Lexaeus' has a very nice smile.

* * *

**AN. **Cameos, in case you missed them: Quina Quen (FF9), Maugrim (Narnia), The Fates (Hercules), and Nakoma (Pocahontas).

Concrit is a 'yes, please!'


	2. Xigbar and Xaldin

I do not own any of the franchises or any related characters mentioned here. This was written out of enjoyment of the series, and no profit is being made.

**Claim:** Xaldin&Xigbar  
**Rating:** R for language and blood  
**Notes:** I don't know how, but these two have become my OTF.

* * *

**Anti-Hero, Anti-Villain**

01

In Xigbar's mind, 'night off' is synonymous with 'night out.' And when 'night out' happens, it means Xaldin's getting dragged off somewhere.

"I'm telling you man," Xigbar says as they walk the streets of Traverse Town. "You have the gift of the _gods_."

He refers, of course, to Xaldin's affinity for wind manipulation and how they might affect the woman's pink dress up ahead. The teenager who's with her is wearing a pair of shorts, and at worst would lose the scarf around her shoulders. (Xaldin can't shake the feeling that he's seen that braided hair before...)

"No."

"Come on! At least the power of the eidolons?"

"No."

"...The _fairies?_"

"_Definitely_ no."

02

"Me and him?" The man with the eye patch points to the taller, darker man sitting behind him at the bar. "Known each other since the day we were born."

The man being pointed at stirs his glass passively and mumbles, "He's been using that line for nearly as long."

(The first one, meanwhile, can't shake the feeling that he's seen the bartender and her odd red eyes somewhere.)

03

"Braig was a huge comic-book nerd."

Xigbar stops the blowtorch, and flips the visor up to stare at Xaldin. "He was not."

"No, wait," Vexen calls from his place next to Zexion, standing a safe distance from the gummi ship they were repairing. Whenever the five of them end up doing something like this, their combined minds are enough to draw in bits of memories like bits of iron dust to a magnet. "I think Xaldin's right."

"Yup," Zexion confirmed, smoothing a crease in the blueprints.

"Oh, come on!" Xigbar looks from Xaldin to the two at the desk. "Sure, he was a nerd, but so were you four! We were _all_ scientists."

Lexaeus comes around the corner of the monstrous machine, having just finished inspecting the control panel. "What was it you said when I told you about that new world I found?"

"Something along the lines of, 'Dude, we have to check it out.' If I remember correctly," Vexen says. "Why _are_ you using my best blowtorch on a gummi ship? The blocks fit together on their own."

"It's a new world! We have to check out all of them, don't we?" Xigbar stands and points the blowtorch threateningly at the only blonde. "And I'm using it because we can't take any risks of blocks coming apart. It was Heartless ships that did all this damage."

"Yes, but we find new worlds _every day_, Xigbar," Zexion said, taking a bite of one of the bread rolls that served as their dinner. "You had never been quite so... adamant to explore any of them before this one."

"Yeah? Well, that's because..."

"Because Braig was a wimpy comic-book nerd," Xaldin deadpanned.

"Alright, that's it!" Xigbar backed away from them all, as though disgusted he associated himself with any of them. "You'll _see_. You'll _all see._"

04

Xaldin laughs for the first time in his existance after Xigbar tells him where he managed to get such perfect uniforms.

"...Edna Mole?"

"Edna _Mode!_"

"I'm afraid she doesn't ring any bells."

"Dude! She's only the greatest designer of..." he drifts off suddenly, pretending to be interested in some neon sign in the distance.

"Of what?" Xaldin presses. "Of..."

He grins, understanding dawning on him. "Of super hero outfits."

"Uniforms," the other gives a muttered correction.

05

Xaldin was actually the ones who made their weapons. It's a strange process.

When a Nobody's powers first present themselves, it happens without the weapon appearing. Just a burst of cold or an odd electric current. As the Nobody continues to train these powers, the weapons gradually reveal themselves, but only in ghostly half-solid forms that fall apart during battle.

One day, during the Organization VI era, Xaldin took it upon himself to actually construct the strange blue shield that had been appearing around Vexen during battle with the Heartless. Once it exsisted in solid form, the Chilly Academic was able to summon his weapon with a burst of snowflakes and cold from any distance.

Xigbar's weapons are different from the rest in that his guns are the only ones that required technology to be programmed, wires to be tested, systems to be checked. It's worth it for the reaction.

"Dude..." Xigbar's voice quivers, though they know it can't be with emotion. He clicks the pistols together into a sniper rifle and aims at the target set up near the forge.

They feel the odd tremor in their inactive veins as Space shifts and Xigbar summons the light bullets that load the gun. There is a pause as the gun warms up under the touch of its new master.

There a stream-lined explosion as the bullets merge and leave the barrel in a blue surge of energy.

The Freeshooter turns back grinning after observing the hole in the wall where the bull's-eye used to be, a post-explosion gust blowing their tied-back hair around their faces. "How the hell are you going to bring yourself to make weapons after these babies?"

Xaldin stands, smirking. "Oh, I'm sure I won't have a problem when _my_ powers come along."

06

On mornings when Xigbar waltzes (or stumbles; it's pretty much fifty-fifty) into the kitchen with his hair only half tied back into its convenient ponytail it can only mean that some memory has come back to him crystal clear in a dream. Today's tidbit: "Wimpy comic-book nerd Braig had a girl."

Xaldin doesn't flinch as he sips his coffee. "So did Dilan."

"...Damn," II slumps into the chair beside him, some of his apparent pride in his Other deflated.

"It's been, what, how many years since I made that comment? I've told you a thousand times it's not a bad thing."

"Yeah yeah yeah." Xigbar casts his one eye around the room, seeing that none of the other members were present. "I need a cup of coffee."

As walks over to the (ridiculously over-complicated; Zexion and his tinkering) coffee machine, he gets a "So?" from Xaldin.

"So what?" He grabs his (colour-coded; Vexen and his order of things) coffee mug from the cupboard and fills it, turning back so he could look over the counter at the table. "The girl?"

"What was she like?"

"...What the hell is in this coffee?"

"For Carbuncle's sake, Xigbar..."

"You couldn't have just asked me what my girl was like."

"But she was _Braig's_ girl."

Xigbar seems to contemplate this before retrieving milk from the fridge and slamming it onto the counter beside his mug, but not pouring it into his coffee. He stares down Xaldin who only blinks back, nonplussed.

"...Too shy."

"Really? I don't think I would mind shyness."

"You're joking," Xigbar finally pours the milk and sips. "You and shyness?"

Xaldin shrugs noncommittally. "I certainly wouldn't be able to stand her yapping at me."

A pause. "Seriously though, who drugged the coffee?"

07

They are both so stubborn when it comes to insults that Xigbar was known as "Imbecile" and Xaldin "Fuzzface" for nearly a week before everyone's complaints convinced them to drop it.

The titles still crop up as the occasional nickname.

08

The new ones never quite believe that Xaldin and Xigbar were once scientists. If they manage to see past Xigbar's scars and Xaldin's six weapons and recognize that calculations constantly spin through their minds, they always point out that they never see either of them in the basement lab. That's because Xemnas banished them from it.

The Neophytes know next to nothing about it, as the original six don't like to talk about it much (especially Vexen. He likes to freeze big, expensive things when someone brings it up). Lexaeus once offered something about propellers and Xaldin once left them to contemplate a cryptic hint about sodium chloride. Saïx once asked why Xemnas didn't write a record of it and his explanation was "All you need to now is that there were explosions. A _series_ of explosions."

The two of them seem to look back on it fondly.

09

Xigbar wasn't born with one eye. The losing of it happened in Hollow Bastion, all the same.

"I don't care how badly Xemnas needs this report," Xaldin says. He mentally latches himself into the blue cliff with nonexistent cleats on the soles of his boots. "I'm not going back into that castle."

"Geeze, wouldn't expect _you_ to be superstitious one, Xal."

"It's Xal_din_, and I'm not being superstitious. We were responsible for unleashing the Heartless on this World."

Xigbar is standing on the beginning of a step path down into the castle town. "Our Others were the ones who did that, remember?"

"Same difference. Only misfortune waits for us down there."

"Karmastitious then." He waves a hand. "If that's a word."

He turns from the village and grins manically at him, blinking his (two) gold eyes. Xaldin only narrows blue ones in response.

"Oh, come on! I bet you're just jealous 'cause your powers haven't presented themselves yet."

No response.

"I'll go down there alone if I have to."

No response.

"I'll take all the credit."

After several more offers, Xaldin got tired of not responding and nearly pushed Xigbar down the cliff as he shoved past him. "Just shut up and make sure you don't damage the guns."

10

"There's still people living here. After what we did."

Xigbar looks around what they had thought until now was a ghost town. "You're right," he says. He points to a window, where bright morning glories sway in the weak wind. "Those flowers would've wilted by now. Not much rain here during the summer."

They continue walking into the town, towards the castle. Not five minutes later Xaldin stops again. "Do you smell something?"

His companion inhales deeply. "Yeah. Smoke."

"That's what I thought," III takes off running down an alleyway.

"Hey, wait! Where are you going?" II runs after him through some backstreets and down more alleyways until he practically runs straight into Xaldin's back. "What the hell are you..."

He drifts off as he looks down the staircase into the Borough, where the survivors of that initial Heartless swarm must've gathered. Black shadows creep through the burning carcasses of houses. Occasionally the pink glow of a heart would appear, only to be snuffed out as another Shadow or Wyvern or Darkball came into existence.

"...Crap," Xigbar whispered.

11

They shouldn't have split up after they descended those stairs.

12

Xaldin once held a heart in his hand.

The Wyvern had swooped down and grabbed the girl with its talon, stabbing her through the stomach and killing her instantly. The heart had left the body, falling to the ground. But he finished the Shadow that lunched to devour it, then threw his last wreckage-salvaged bomb at the Wyvern as it let the girl drop to the ground.

And he was left with her heart as a boy, her only companion, ran to the body.

Looking back on it, he should've run for it then and there. He should've taken it back to the castle. They could've lived.

And yet he doesn't run.

Because somewhere in his head, logic wins out again. He knew that had he taken this heart the girl's empty shell would appear behind his closed eyelids and the boy's pleading would ring in his ears for as long as he lived.

He walks across the courtyard, boots crunching on roof tiles and broken flower pots. He wonders how old these two are as the boy holds onto her as though never letting go.

He feels the crystaline heart pulse as he nears its home. The boy looks up at him with frightened blue eyes, his bangs stained like bloody straw from a cut in his forehead. The Nobody kneels, looking down into the blank green eyes of the girl.

He lets the heart fall, feather soft, from his hand.

There is a warm light as the heart is reunited with the body. The wound in her stomach repairs itself, renewing itself to make a new house for its returned resident.

She blinks, as though waking from a very deep sleep.

"Aeris?" the boy asks.

She looks up at him in confusion. "Why are you looking at me like that? What's happening?"

"Can you carry her?" Xaldin asks.

"Who is he?" the girl (_with the braided hair_) asks.

The boy ignores her for a second, nodding.

"Make your way to the Rising Falls. It's safer there."

The boy stands, and the girl has to wrap her arms around his neck for fear of falling. He runs as quickly as he can out of the courtyard and never looks back, but the girl watches the Nobody over his shoulder.

Xaldin watches back until he hears someone screaming in what could only be described as _pain_.

Xigbar.

13

His last memory before losing his eye is giving the girl (_with the red eyes_) and the boy with the sword instructions on how to find a secret Gummi garage near the base of the castle. How they need to use it to leave this rock, how they're not going to be able to wait for the darkness to just ebb away.

He breaks away from them, flips. The bullets sing as they rain down on the Heartless. "Go!" he shouts.

The boy grips the huge sword in his hand, anxious to join in. The girl tugs on his arm and says something like "Zack, we have to find Yuffie!"

This seems to jolt the boy back into reality and he turns and runs with her up out of the Castle Gate area. He watches them, almost smiling. He had saved their lives. _Him._

Then his legs go cold and he wonders why the hell that shadow is pooling around his feet (the angle of the sun isn't right) and why is it growing _eyes_...?

The title 'Heartless' is very misleading. The black creatures are really just hearts that have given into the darkness inside them. Perhaps, Xigbar thinks as he struggles, cold claws digging into his legs and tearing him down to his knees, that they could feel anger.

They were angry at him for letting his prey escape, he realizes, as Heartless swarm up his upper torso, clawing at his empty cavity for the heart not there. The absent heartbeat seems to provoke them further and they reach up to his face. He manages to struggle against the constriction for a brief essential second, and the claw misses his left eye but strikes him just beneath, dragging a curved path down his chin.

But then the darkness grows as thick as tar as more shadows join it. And then the claws swing towards his face again, to the right-

14

Xaldin only hated the feeling of his blood rushing once. The fighting instinct that all Nobodies are born with starts to pump the blood around their veins when they enter battle. And maybe that's why some of the members, including himself, absolutely thrived on it.

But he hated the preparative rushing this time because he couldn't help thinking that he hadn't fought, hadn't ran fast enough. He had torn the suffocating black shroud off the silhouette too late.

The smell of stagnant blood fills his nostrils as it spills from the shell's right socket and too many wounds to count. His mind goes into overdrive when he sees that the thing is still a man, just barely, because he's struggling to take in breaths and is still living.

"Xigbar..." The smell is crashing over his head again and again and his head is spinning wildly. "Shit... _shit._"

He wonders absently what that tearing sound is and realizes with a delay that Heartless are shredding his back to pieces and he's losing blood.

He tries to look for the piece of support beam he had been using a weapon until now but can't see it and he has to do something soon because they're clawing at the back of his knees and forcing him downward. He grits his teeth and a sound rips up from his stomach-

The air moves as though enraged, whipping over his head and blowing the tar off him like a jet stream as he roars in empty panic and fear and anger. He stumbles and looks across the pool of Xigbar's blood where a dragon shaped spear stands point down in the ground, vibrating slightly.

The man who lies beneath him rasps, the wind apparently having shaken him out of unconsciousness. One eye stares up at him, flat gold and panicked.

"Xigbar, you have to open a portal before the Heartless come back." He kneels for the second time that day and he hears his knees hit blood.

Xigbar clamps his teeth and breathes through them, a horrible weakened wheeze, to show he understands. He raises a shaking, bleeding arm, and a dark purple orb appears in his palm, chipped in places like a veteran playground marble.

_Zzchk._ It flickers, but Xaldin takes it before it can disappear and gives the pathway form. Blackness swirls around the dark purple and he can almost see the basement of _their_ castle through it.

The portal is two steps away, but as he lifts the Freeshooter with tattered arms and lurches forward on torn legs, _it hurts like fucking hell_. He falls through the portal and almost onto the white tiles of the lab, but he is suddenly supported on three more spears, points down in the floor.

"Xaldin...?" someone echoes across the room.

He struggles to lift his head but he can feel blood spill out from him and run down his back. He really needs to throw up. "Hel..." The spears splinter against the weight and the floor rushes up to greet him home.

15

It's the first and last time that any of them get vacation time.

The little beach house Xemnas had found on the little tropical World has been abandoned for years, but he still worries that someone is going to walk too far down the beach one day and come across them. They would probably look like alcoholics, what with all the empty hi-potion and ether bottles scattered around. The odd haze of tingly healing that comes after so much is drunk probably didn't help them either.

But it does open up some doors.

He's sitting in the doorway, looking out at the sunset. Xigbar has recovered enough that he can sit up. He's propped on the coffee table nearby. Xaldin can hear him idly tearing the label off his seventh bottle.

"Hey, Xaldin," he says, but his tone raises at the end, so maybe there's a question mark there.

"Yes, Xigbar."

"When I get married," and Xaldin has to turn and look at him, because this is the _last_ thing he expected to hear, "will you be my best man?"

The waves crash out on the sand, and wind blows in the open door. Xigbar trains his one eye on the bottle and its label the entire time, not seeming to care if the other man ever answered.

There is a very long pause.

"Only if you'll be mine," Xaldin mumbles.

Xigbar smiles, very slowly.

They turn back to the sunset and watch.

16

When Xigbar is well enough to stand and walk again, they usually pass the day by walking down to the little brick wall near the beach and just sitting. Sometimes they can see cars moving off on the main island when the mist clears and they wonder if technology is catching on in all the Worlds, or if they've even been Connected yet. The wind cools their burning skin as red scar tissues grows.

"Hey, you know what's kinda funny?" Xigbar asks one day.

"Mmm?" the taller mumbles wearily.

"I have scars down my front," Xigbar peers down at his right foot, where one of said scars ends near his big toe, "and you have scars down your back."

Xaldin takes a swig of his ether bottle, then closes his eyes as the medicinal cloud in his head thickens. "So?"

"So? It's like," Xigbar raises his hand blankly into the air, as through that will help him form a proper sentence. "It's like we're the flip side of each other's coin or summin."

The taller man blinks through the haze. "..._What?_"

"I...dunno." Xigbar blinks his remaining eye. He gingerly fingers his new eye-patch and glances at his companion. "D'you think the chicks will dig it?"

They start laughing for a reason they can't grasp and don't stop for several minutes.

17

Xigbar hates the sound of Xaldin falling. The spears shriek too loudly as they rend the sky and when they're finished, they either clatter against one of their sextuplets or thud into the ground. And in the middle of it there is a stupidly stubborn silence that is the Whirlwind Lancer determined not to admit anything is wrong.

"You idiot," he says one day as Xaldin gets up and starts to walk back up the hill. "You're an idiot. We practically just came back. And now you're throwing yourself into the ground without even thinking about how your powers work."

Xaldin keeps walking up the steep road. The lances follow, spinning weakly and points dragging against the pavement.

"Hey! Don't walk away from me, you idiot! I'm fucking talking to you!" Xigbar pounds up the hill after him until they're side by side. "If you keep jumping into the air like this you're just going to rip your back open all over again."

One of the lances swing deathly close to Xigbar's head. He bends backwards at the hips just in time, but nearly falls all the way back to the bottom of the hill at the shift in his balance. When he straightens up again and looks for Xaldin, the man is at the top of the hill.

There is a sound of metal and light as one of the pistols they both knew so well is summoned. "You better as hell not jump again."

Xaldin inhales and Xigbar shoots.

One of the spears shriek again, and whacks the bullet out of the air, sending back to its shooter. Xigbar dodges and looks into the sky to see the odd shape of Xaldin in flight. A shadow like a man in the center of six draconic spider legs crawling, and stumbling, across the sky.

"You fucking idiot!" he shouts as the spider releases too much thread and one of its legs grazes the ground and trails sparks. He doesn't even have to think about bringing the other gun into existence before he's opened fire.

But for every bullet that sings through the air there is a collision with dragon steel and for every collision there is a new red light point down in the road.

The Freeshooter looks up and somehow the spider has transformed into just Xaldin, each spear following its own path around its master but never colliding into one another. Like electrons on thier path around the nucleus.

A _flying_ Xaldin. They were all doomed.

"You... jerk! You big lug!" He trips around the red bullets laying in the street like lanterns. "You're flying!"

"Oh, I'm a jerk now, am I? What happened to 'idiot'?"

18

One must note that Demyx was more or less initiated into the then Organization IX by Xigbar, and that the two carried off a relationship that reminded some of 'that duck and his nephews'. While the Neophyte often grated Xigbar's nerves by somehow managing to get himself into some new brand of trouble, and Demyx was none too appreciative of the elder's teasing insults, there was a definite mutual respect.

So when Demyx dies, Xigbar sits on the steps of the Castle Gate, staring out at the blue and green rain soaked tiles where he himself might've died. If it hadn't been for Xaldin, sitting beside him. Alive.

"I know you hate this place," he says quietly to him. "Why'd you come here?"

The Lancer stares with blank eyes at the center of the tiles, determined not to look at him. It's eerie, that stare. He feels like he can see himself in the reflection, sees what no doubt haunts Xaldin. Why he avoids this place like the plague.

The lightning flashes and Xaldin squeezes his eyes shut. It had illuminated the scene in his mind he was hoping to keep concealed.

He opens his eyes and shakes his head numbly as thunder rumbles out near the Great Maw. "I had to."

19

"The tear ducts in your left eye must've been weakened when the Heartless took the other one."

"No, damn it!" Xigbar pounds the red portal. His legs ache from kneeling so long. "Is it so hard to believe that you're _gone_ and I can't accept that?"

"Yes, it is hard to believe. You don't have a heart," the figment says in that controlled voice.

"Damn it, how could _you lose?_ A duck, a dog and a kid."

"You know they're much more than that."

"...They're friends."

20

"We could be heroes."

Xigbar sits up, taking his eyes off the clouds skidding across the sky. "There are so many things wrong with that sentence."

Xaldin glances at him. "Explain."

"First of all, we're dead. Second of all, _you_ were always the one saying that I was an idiot for helping those kids out in Hollow Bastion."

"That's only two things."

Xigbar scowls. "You were always the one saying that we should let things run their course."

"And you were always the one saying that we _shouldn't._ And now you're agreeing with me? What's your reason behind that?"

He stands up from the grass. He needed to move when something rubbed him the wrong way. "Who needs a reason? Maybe I just changed."

"Maybe. Or maybe you thought that all being a hero does is bring you is pain. Maybe you gave up on yourself."

"What the hell do you mean by-"

"And when Demyx came along you found someone you could pin your dreams onto. That's why he was so reluctlant to go on missions. He didn't like hurting people in the first place but you-"

"You and I both know that Demyx could be a hundred times the hero we'd ever be. I turned a sacred deity into a Heartless, and you screwed up a Princess of Heart's World."

"Says the man who raced into a burning city to fight against the threat he helped create and save the people he put in danger. With nothing to gain."

Those freakishly blue eyes stare the other down. "You want to know why I followed you that day, Xigbar? Because we've known each other so long I actually _believe_ what your disillusioned mind spits out sometimes.

"I thought, 'Hell, he's right, we can _be_ something. If we save these kids at least we'll _exist_ in their memories.'"

Wind blew over the fields, tossing their hair. Xigbar sat down again.

"Xaldin, that wasn't me. You had a hell of a better reason than I did to save those kids. I didn't know _why_ I rushed in there. I just did."

"Exactly. Sometimes that what we need. Sometimes we don't need to think. Sometimes we just need to move. And that's what you do."

"Huh," he smiles. "We _could_ be heroes."

"We could be friends."

They meet the corners of each other's eyes and smile.

"If we weren't already."


	3. Luxord and Naminé

I do not own _Kingdom Hearts_ or any related characters. This was written out of enjoyment of the series, and no profit is being made.

**Claim:** Luxord&Naminé  
**Rating:** PG-13 for implied sexual abuse, mild language, and mentions of death  
**Notes:** ...Alright, so this is my _other _One True Friendship. It's more of a filial relationship, so... yeah!

* * *

**Pigeon**

01

Number's I through III look at her with science eyes, all calculations and hypotheses. VII looks at her as though she is some rare species of animal he has never seen before. VIII is missing, assigned to distract a someone they call XIII while she moves in. IX smiles at her openly, even gives a shy wave, and she is vaguely comforted.

X, the man with the short blonde hair and the rings in his ears, tilts his head and observes. But he doesn't have science eyes. Something different moves behind his pupils. Eventually, he smiles too, though it's much a quieter one than IX's.

She remembers thinking if that meant something.

02

Twelve days follow where Naminé is introduced to each member in turn, one day at a time. On the tenth, there is a knock at the door.

She fumbles with the lock and opens the door. The man with earrings smiles down at her, quietly again, and comes in. He walks over to one of her windows and looks out as she closes the door again with a soft click.

He turns, his hands neatly folded behind his back (she is reminded a little of Number III). "My name is Luxord, Number X of the Organization. I can control the element of Time and use a deck of cards as my weapon."

He says all this much quicker and less precisely than the rest of them. She's expecting the question she's been asked nine times after those two fill-in-the-blanks sentences. "Do you have any questions about me?"

She shakes her head, just like she's done nine times before.

_Then_ Number X starts talking precisely. "Good. Now, little lady, tell me the truth.

"Do you have any questions about the _others?_"

03

He finds he doesn't have much in common with others, except perhaps Xigbar, who suffers from the strange reality-twisting dreams that comes with being able to roll the dice of the universe. So when any new face comes along, he's ready to test it, to see if this recruit could answer the question he hasn't asked. Marluxia and Larxene seem far more interested in battle to pay his games much heed. Roxas is kept busy by being pitted against Heartless.

But little caged Naminé; she had nothing but time and a sketchpad in all her four-white-walls-world. And so, he had started the game, started asking his question.

It was when she picked up the cards and started playing _back_ that he felt the answer resonate through him, like the bells in Notre Dame.

04

She's brilliant at Go Fish. She has an excellent memory.

05

For the first couple of weeks, she's almost insulted that he doesn't use his extended vocabulary with her. She's not a child, it won't kill her to learn new words, she reasons.

She realizes later that his words are like his cards: hiding places where he can sneak between the thinnest edges and floor-cracks of the world and just wander for a while.

But he doesn't hide in his big dictionary phrases with her. Once she figures it out, she's honoured. And wonders what exactly he's up to.

06

She likes the way he laughs from deep, deep down in his lungs. She jokes that he must've been an opera singer in his past life and he laughs again. He doesn't tell her that some nights he dreams of sea shanties and dance steps exchanged with a tiny girl on a wooden deck.

07

"You keep calling me 'pigeon'."

"Indeed, I do."

She taps her pencil against the table in thought. "I thought pigeons were ugly birds."

He smiles slightly from across the table. "They're certainly not the most aesthetically pleasing birds. But they are exceedingly tenacious little things."

She raises her eyebrows in curiosity.

"On some worlds, men use them to deliver messages in time of war. They're able to find their way back home across impossible distances. Some have finished missions where any man would have easily have given up.

"Besides," he continues playing his game of solitaire, "they're in the same family as doves. And you certainly have qualities of those birds, if it's any consolation."

08

The Gamblers start to trickle in during his visits. At first, just one trailed in a couple minutes after they had set up the board game. Then they started to come in twos and threes to play with the master and his little apprentice. One day Naminé looks up and notices for the first time they are using all the game pieces as Gambler #5 rolls a die. She looks to Luxord for an explanation. He smiles slightly and says, "They like you, Naminé."

09

The Gamblers like her so much they start to bring her little gifts back when they return from missions. They give her little chunks of metal and shiny dimes. They hold up keys to her earlobes as she looks in the mirror and laughs. But Luxord was the one who found her the crown in the ruins of Hollow Bastion.

That's how she started remembering. She's an exception again, remembering the things her Somebody didn't.

They don't tell Vexen.

10

The one thing he's always liked about her room is the smell. It is the pale smell of pastel shadows and fresh laundry, but if you stayed long enough, you could pick up the scent of stinging metal (Zexion can smell all of it for sure). It's from all the weapons she comes into such close contact with. She absorbs more of their edge, more of their bravery than she realizes.

So he's naturally concerned when he comes in and he can't smell the sting. Even her surface scent of white cotton is overpowered by the thick perfume of roses.

He feels fragments of panic surface when he scans the room and can't find her. He looks again, and sees her curled into her sheets, a fallen thing.

He crosses the room and stands over her bed, feeling time ache by. He touches her shoulder and she crumples in on herself.

She thinks he is someone else.

"Pidge."

She turns from the wall, hurrying to cling to him, trying to drown herself in the smell of seconds and plastic dice, but _can't._ She's crying and crying and can't stop. He sits on the bed and gathers her pieces into his arms.

11

He hates the smell of roses. Any flowers, really.

12

He can fall asleep absolutely anywhere. She knows because she once woke up in the middle of the night to find him snoring in a chair next to her bed, chin down on his chest. She woke him up and asked him what he was doing there. He chuckled and said he lost track of time, but she had a feeling he was lying. You can never tell with that poker face defence of his.

13

Demyx puts down his cards with an amused smile; Axel leaves the table; Xaldin watches her pull the chips in with furrowed eyebrows; Xigbar turns to him and says, "You've been teaching her poker, you sneaky British bastard."

14

One day he looks over her shoulder to find the white page full of sketched-line foundations. There are a lot of him. And Vexen. And Xigbar. And even some of Xaldin. But none of the others.

She turns and tilts her head up, smiling slightly. "Your hair tends to obey logic."

15

Once she's learned how to travel the Corridors of Darkness, she finally has someone to go to when the nightmares dig their sticky claws into her bed her at night.

She clutches her pillow as she tiptoes from the wall to his bed. The memory of fear that had clutched her in sleep fades slightly as she hears him snoring. "Luxord?" she pokes him in the shoulder. "Luxord?"

"Fehh..." He opens one eye wearily. "1856?"

"No, uh..." She hesitates. "Can I sleep in here tonight?"

"Hm. Naminé." He yawns and moves across the bed, leaving her empty sheets and blanket to curl up in. She climbs up and rests her head against the pillow. He turns, so she can feel his back behind hers. "'Night, pigeon."

He is asleep again in a wink, and says with a smile to his dream, "Hello, luv. Want to go time-travelling?"

She giggles into her pillow and replies, "Goodnight, Luxord."

16

Going to visit her after missions becomes second nature. One day he walked in the doorway, forgetting about the dark red caked to his forehead and flaked through his hair. Her eyes widened at the dried blood as soon as he had opened the door.

"Ah. Right," he had said, remembering. "I'll go take care of that."

"Please do," she had replied as he left.

17

"It's _him_ I don't trust." Luxord crosses his arms, glancing at the door the Key of Destiny had left through.

"Just because he's friends with Axel and Demyx, you think he's not worth trusting?"

"Demyx, I can trust. Perhaps. If he didn't have such radical mood swings. And Axel is a man you can _never_ trust."

"But _he's_ Roxas! He's not Axel, he's not Demyx! Why is that so hard for you to understand?"

"It's not. It's just that he's exceedingly irritating, for one thing. With that attitude of his. If he doesn't smarten up-"

"That's your opinion...!" Naminé drifts off suddenly. A shy ghost of _something_ comes into her face. "Do you see what you're doing?"

He narrows his eyes seriously.

"You're being protective of me." You're being... fatherly.

Luxord avoids eye contact and refuses to acknowledge the truth of this statement.

18

Sometimes he dreams that he's drowning. He falls backwards beneath the water, and anvils lie on his lungs. Far above, he hears a girl calling for someone else's name. He's never sure how to reply to his daughter's calls. He wants to say 'Naminé', but that's not quite right. The octopus-like Heartless are dragging him below anyway, so it's pointless to try.

19

She keeps all of their secrets. He keeps hers.

20

She came back.

One long year and several weeks after she left for Castle Oblivion, she came back. She came back with a _boy_ (they split up, thank goodness), she's here to free the prisoner, but she came back. She stands there, suddenly a young woman who pleads with her eyes. _Not you, Luxord. Not you. You're better than this._

He can't take it any more. He drops the poker face as though it never existed (but really, it never ever had). "Pidge," the word slips through smiling teeth.

She runs into his arms and he's alarmed that he doesn't need to bend his knees anymore. He stands back for a second and strokes the bangs that frame her face. "Though it seems you're more of a dove now, aren't you?"

She shakes her head, blinking wetly. "You look terrible."

"If I could, I would _feel_ terrible too."

"What happened to you?"

He shakes his head, his eyes showing her the surface of some story he'd never tell her. "You came back home, pigeon. That's all I was waiting for. ...You're not crying, are you?"

She rubs an eye. "You know I am."

"Have you seen Roxas since you left?"

"Yes."

He smiles. "You'll be alright, then."

"Luxord..."

He pulls her into his arms and holds her. He's relieved to find all of her pieces are there (she didn't loose anything in the brambles of oblivion).

He knows that he can only hold on for one moment. Just one, because if you hold on to things for too long, the stream dams up and nothing moves at all. As Axel would've said, the show must go on. But no one ever says how long one moment has to be.

"Kairi is in the prison. You know how to get there, right?"

"Yes."

"Good girl." Quiet.

"Luxord?"

"Hmm?"

She shifts her cheek against the leather. "I missed you."

He thinks about this for far too long. "I missed you too, Naminé."

She feels a tremor pass through him. She leans back and looks into his face. His jaw is set as he stares into space. "Xigbar's moving. You have to go, now."

"But-"

"Goodbye, pidge."

She hears the portal before she sees it, and holds his gloved hand in a vice grip before he disappears. "I don't want to see you die."

She feels him kiss her on the forehead once, like a father she never had. "Then I promise you won't." The cold blossom of darkness swallows him up and takes him away.

She never sees him again.

* * *

**pi-geon:** 1.) any bird of the family Columbidae, having a compact body and short legs, esp. the larger species with square or rounded tails. Compare dove. 2.) a young, usually attractive, girl. 3.) a card, acquired in the draw, that greatly improves a hand or makes it a winner.


End file.
